


Dear Burglar Baggins

by rhiannak



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 06:41:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13048596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhiannak/pseuds/rhiannak
Summary: After BotFA, Thorin is left wounded but alive. He rests in his tent, the ever faithful Bilbo at his side. Bilbo discovers a letter Thorin penned before charging out the gates into the battle, and they begin to deal with what each means to the other.





	Dear Burglar Baggins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rinchen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinchen/gifts).



> This is the second bit of fic I have EVER posted. It is for Rinchen for the Hobbit Holiday Exchange. I really hope you like it, dear.

_~~Dear Bilbo~~ _

_~~My Dearest Hobbit~~ _

_~~Burglar Bilbo Baggins~~ _

_Dear Burglar, I leave this letter for you in the case that we shall never meet again. I now recognize the horrors I committed under the thrall of this cursed gold. I know there is no excuse for my words and deeds at the gate, but I wish to tell you just how sorry I am, and to tell you that you need not seek forgiveness yourself for it is already freely given. Bilbo, I recognize your actions now for what they were; a desperate and ill-fated attempt to protect my honor and life and for that I should be thankful. I find it hard, however, to be thankful for anything now. I have led you into such peril. I have led my sister sons to their death. I've betrayed the company, the honorable loyal dwarrows who followed me on this quest. I fear they follow now only to their deaths. I once dreamed of a life again within these halls, and in those dreams I longed to see you at my side. Now my only wish is for you to return safely to the Shire. Go back to your books your armchair. Live the quiet respectable life you were always meant to live as a gentle Hobbit and if we should meet again after parting this world, may we meet again as friends._

_~~Yours~~ _

_~~Always~~ _

_Thorin Oakenshield_

Bilbo touched the name again, tracing the letters as he stared at the blank canvas of the tent in front of him. He had read and reread the letter enough times in the two hours since he had spoken to Thorin before the dwarf slipped into unconsciousness. Bilbo's hand found the letter tucked away inside the coat Thorin wore as he frantically checked for a heartbeat, thinking in his dwarf had slipped away from him again. 

His dwarf. There it was again. Bilbo found himself repeatedly thinking of Thorin as his dwarf. Somehow Thorin had come back to him. The true Thorin, the king, the warrior with a guarded heart, the one who would never go back on his word.

"Well that's decided then."

"What is?" 

The faint, hoarse voice caused Bilbo to start so violently he nearly fell off his stool. The dwarf struggled to sit up, but one touch to his shoulder from Bilbo held him back. Bilbo silently brought forth a tonic that Oin instructed the dwarf drink upon waking. He held the cup to Thorin's lips as he dutifully drank down the medicine. 

Relaxing back into the pillows, Thorin's eyes fell on the paper Bilbo had laid aside. Whatever blood was left in the dwarf's body immediately rushed color his face upon recognition of the stained surface. The dwarf slowly turned his head toward Bilbo, and in his eyes there was a look of hope, but also guarded stubbornness. He seemed to chew on his words before he spoke them.

"Bilbo, I want you to understand-"

"Thorin, please. Allow me to speak?" Thorin nodded, and so Bilbo continued, starting at his own hands on his lap. "You must understand how heartbroken I was by what happened that day at the gates to Erebor. I was devastated by what you said, but not because I was worried for myself. I was worried for you. You had changed. You were not the dwarf I knew, the dwarf I--"

At this point, the hobbit was choking back tears. He looked up from his hands at the dwarf, and saw the blue eyes swimming with their own emotion. He took a deep breath to steel himself before continuing.

"The dwarf that I loved. Love. I love you Thorin, blast it! You confounded dwarf!" And with that, Bilbo threw himself forward, pressing his lips to the dwarf's. 

Bilbo felt Thorin's arms close around him, holding him close, until the dwarf's breath hitched. Bilbo immediately pulled away, though reluctantly, hands flying over Thorin's bandages, with no real knowledge of how to help.

"Peace, Bilbo. Perhaps we should finish this conversation later? I believe that horrible concoction of Oin's is calling me back to my dreams." As if to prove a point, a yawn followed this statement.

"Yes. Yes, of course." Bilbo was undoubtedly happier than he had been before Thorin had awoken, but knew there was much more that needed to be said. "Are you comfortable? Do you need anything? Another fur, perhaps, to keep you warm?"

"Bilbo. I will be fine. Just...stay here until I fall asleep again? Your presence is comforting." 

In answer, Bilbo pulled his stool closer and sat down by Thorin's head, covering the dwarf's larger hand with his own. Light snores soon filled to tent, and Bilbo laid his head down on the edge of the cot, and was lulled to sleep by the sound of his dwarf breathing

\-------------------------------------------------------------------- 

As Balin rounded the corner to their king's tent, a familiar tall, grey figure was just coming out again.

"Gandalf! How fares our leader?"

"Balin! I came to check in on him, only to find  that he is already in good hands. He and Bilbo are both asleep."

"Ah. I see. Well, shall we go find Bofur and see what he has to say on the status of the mines?" Balin said with a knowing smile.

"Indeed we shall. Perhaps he knows where I might find Bombur, I wish to confer with him on the state of the kitchens," Gandalf responded, and the two turned and moved off toward the Lonely Mountain.


End file.
